


envy rots the bones

by LittleTayy



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Adultery, F/M, Gratuitous use of Bible verses, Jealousy, Pre-Canon, Rough Foreplay, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleTayy/pseuds/LittleTayy
Summary: “Then my wrath against you will subside and my jealous anger will turn away from you; I will be calm and no longer angry.Ezekiel 16:42,” Marisa whispered to him, still smiling her shark-like smile. Her head tilted, eyes shifting over him curiously, as if she were examining him. “I do not like to share Asriel.”Asriel grinned, a chuckle escaping as he tilted his head up a little, a hand moving up to play with her tousled curls. “So you admit, you are jealous then,” he said, as if he hadn't heard her own words.
Relationships: Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	envy rots the bones

**Author's Note:**

> I spent far too long looking for bible verses to use in this fic. The title comes from Proverbs 14:30 - A heart at peace gives life to the body but envy rots the bones. 
> 
> This is really, truly just gratuitous smut. I hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment or review. :)

**envy rots the bones**

* * *

_ ‘If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other’  _

_ \- Galatians 5:15 _

* * *

“Are you jealous?” Asriel asked, voice smug and amused. 

Marisa resisted the urge to huff, turning away from her lover and busying herself with pouring out a generous finger of whiskey from his sidebar. She stayed with her back to him as she gulped it down, setting the tumbler down roughly, the bottom clanging loudly against the metal of the tray. She gazed down at it, hoping to see even the tiniest of cracks, knowing that despite his blasé attitude about his wealth, Asriel would be annoyed at a crack in his crystal. 

It isn’t that he particularly cares for such lavish things but they are his and she knows he dislikes her ruining his things. It’s almost the entire reason that she does it. 

She poured another finger of whiskey as she attempted to ignore Asriel’s question. Her hand tightened around the crystal, taking a slow sip before finally turning around to face her lover. He is sitting in his favourite armchair, one leg crossed over the other and a glass of tokay in his hand, Stelmaria lounging a few feet in front of him, her eyes following the Golden Monkey steadily. 

Her eyes found his and she sneered at the amusement she could see. “I was not  _ jealous _ Asriel,” Marisa drawled, resting back against the sidebar, trying to appear as casual and unbothered as she could. 

It would do neither of them any good to know how hot the anger had burned at seeing Asriel with his date only hours before. Lord Cromwell was a mutual acquaintance to them both, so it had been no surprise that they would both be in attendance at his celebration party. Edward however had been unexpectedly called away, leaving Marisa to attend the party on her own and she’d been looking forward to seeing Asriel without the nuisance of her husband around. 

Her delight at getting to see Asriel, after several weeks apart, quickly faded however as he strolled into the party with a pretty, young date on his arm. The worst of it all was that Marisa recognised the other woman from St. Sophia’s; not exactly a schoolgirl rival, after all Marisa had been the top of all her classes, but a nuisance in social circles. She had expected the other woman to have become some kind of nun, not be cavorting with the likes of Asriel. Annabelle Williams was hardly the kind of woman Asriel would find interesting, she was sure. 

And yet, they had spent most of the evening together. Marisa sneered into her drink, taking another long sip, emptying it with ease. 

“Anger is cruel and fury overwhelming, but who can stand before jealousy?” Asriel drawled, the corners of his lips lifting up in a smug smirk as his eyes connected with hers. 

Marisa sighed, her brows furrowing as she registered Asriel’s words. “Are you quoting  _ scripture _ to me?” Marisa hissed, incredulous, eyes wide as she looked at the man. “I told you, I am not  _ jealous _ ,” she told him firmly, lips pursing as she slammed the tumbler back down onto the sidebar. 

Her Golden Monkey was sneering, as he sat by the door, just out of reach of Stelmaria; reminding Asriel and his daemon she could leave at any moment. But despite her daemon’s positioning, Marisa took several steps towards Asriel, still glaring at the man. She wouldn’t give in, not this time. 

Asriel simply laughed at her words, his dark blue eyes moving over her hungrily. He thought he had the upper hand and that only made Marisa angrier. “You are gorgeous when you are enraged,” he continued, sounding almost reverent, uncrossing his legs and lifting a hand out to take hers as she finally stepped closer to him. 

Marisa slapped his hand away, instead coming to stand between his parted legs, looking down at him heatedly. She leant forward, till their faces were level with each other; a sneer on her pretty features, her hand coming up to clasp around his chin, nails digging into his cheeks only slightly. Their breath mingled as her hair fell around them, the curls starting to lose their hold; her eyes boring into his for several long moments before a wide, sweet and sharp smile grew on her lips. 

“ _ Then my wrath against you will subside and my jealous anger will turn away from you; I will be calm and no longer angry _ . Ezekiel 16:42,” Marisa whispered to him, still smiling her shark-like smile. Her head tilted, eyes shifting over him curiously, as if she were examining him. “I do not like to  _ share _ Asriel.” 

Asriel grinned, a chuckle escaping as he tilted his head up a little, a hand moving up to play with her tousled curls. “So you admit, you are jealous then,” he said, as if he hadn't heard her own words. 

Marisa sneered, the edges of her nails pressing deliberately into the skin of his cheeks before she snatched her hand away. She moved to straighten up, pulling her hair from his loose grasp and crossing her arms as she gazed down at him. She ignored the low growl Stelmaria made at their side. 

“You need not worry, Marisa,” Asriel continued gruffly, his hands reaching forward to settle tightly on her waist. “Annabelle Williams was simply an amusing distraction, nothing more. A date to a party I thought  _ you’d _ be attending with your husband,” he told her lightly. “I am after all, a bachelor. As far as anyone else is concerned.”

Asriel was not in the habit of explaining himself. But he found, in that moment, he'd rather reassure Marisa then rile her up. 

Marisa frowned as she heard Asriel refer to himself as a bachelor. Though it was, technically true, she didn't like it. The jealousy that had been burning so hotly before came back with a roar. 

Her hands dropped to the sides of her dress, hitching the silk up with ease, as she moved to straddle Asriel in his armchair. She settled in his lap, feeling his hands make first contact with her skin for the night. One hand found his shoulder, anchoring herself to him and the other slipped around his neck to grip his hair tightly. 

“You are  _ mine _ , Asriel. No one else’s,” she whispered firmly, her eyes meeting his, blazing with possession. She leant forward, nipping at his lips, tugging at his hair and jerking his head back against the armchair in a show of dominance. “Just as I am yours,” she continued, finally pressing her lips to his in a hungry, passionate kiss. 

“Are you?” Asriel countered, breath hot against her lips as he pulled back from the kiss. He was still smirking though, hands tight on her thighs pulling her against him harder. 

“Asriel,” Marisa growled, her hands dropping to pull his hands from her thighs. Her fingers wrapped like claws around his hands, pushing them to splay out on the arm rest, her own hands pushing down tightly. She shifted in his lap, eyes meeting his as she pressed a hot, possessive kiss to his lips, pulling back only when she heard him groan. “You don’t get to touch. Not tonight,” she whispered against his ear, teeth pulling at his earlobe. 

“Marisa…” Asriel groaned, hands itching to reach out and touch her just as she'd forbidden it. She looked utterly delectable. 

Marisa simply grinned, panting as she pulled back a little, straightening up as she sat in his lap. Her eyes were fixed on his as she reached around, finding the zipper of her dress and tugging it down with ease. She pulled her arms free of the garment slowly, before pulling it up and off completely and tossing it carelessly to the floor behind her. She was never usually so reckless with her clothes but for once, she didn’t care. 

With Marisa sitting in his lap, bare besides her silk slip and lingerie, Asriel forgot he was not supposed to touch. His hands grasped at her hips and thighs, palms slipping under silk and pawing at soft, smooth skin eagerly. Fingertips pressing deliberately into pliable flesh, his dull nails scratching lightly over the outsides of her thighs. 

Marisa allowed it for only a moment before slapping his hands away, nails digging into the skin of his forearms as she pushed them back to the arm rests. “Touch me again and I  _ will _ leave,” she threatened huskily, casting a glance over her shoulder at her monkey, by the threshold of the door looking murderous. 

Stelmaria was growling now, Asriel’s frustration clear, as she moved slowly towards the Golden Monkey. Marisa’s daemon however, slung himself up onto the sideboard, out of reach of the snow leopard. Both daemons turned to glare at Marisa and she simply turned back to grin at Asriel. 

“Fine,” Asriel bit out, voice husky and strained with want. 

Asriel wasn’t used to being denied the pleasure of touching her. Marisa  _ liked _ to be touched and loved and fawned over; it was almost her defining trait, though Asriel would never say that to her. She  **thrived** on being wanted and Asriel had always gladly, willingly, given her that attention that she so craved and adored.  _ When _ it suited him and it had become a sort of game between them, Marisa striving - sometimes outlandishly - for his attention. 

But never had she  _ denied _ him. 

He couldn’t help but growl then, as he watched her sit up straight once again, her head tilting as she looked at him curiously. His hands tightened on the armrests, digging into the leather carelessly. He could barely contain his groan when her arms settled over his shoulders, hands resting on the back of the arm chair as she leant in, mouth on his in a slow, dirty kiss. 

Her kisses moved over his stubbled jaw then, down his neck; nipping with teeth and soothing with her tongue, no doubt leaving marks. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders and down his chest, over his dress shirt when she finally pulled back. Her eyes were blazing as they met his, her fingers finding the first of the buttons on his dress shirt. 

“You are far too over dressed, Asriel,” Marisa murmured hotly, grinning manically as her hands unbuttoned his shirt. Her eyes met his as she shifted back in his lap a little, leaning down to press her mouth to the centre of his chest. The teeth sinking into his flesh made him jump with surprise, more than hurt and a hand moved intinctively to swat her away but he stopped himself just in time. 

Marisa grinned widely as she watched him place his hand back down on the arm rest. It was a shame he’d been wearing a bowtie, she’d have tied his hands up if she could. 

“ _ Jezebel _ ,” he hissed as she pressed her palm to his chest, fingers curling deliberately until her nails bit into his skin. She dragged her nails down his chest and abdomen, relishing in the red marks and spots of blood blooming on his skin. 

She kissed him again, to keep him quiet and chase away any thoughts of touching her as her hands found his belt buckle. Nimble fingers pulled and released expertly, pulling the leather from the straps with a practiced ease. Leaning back, panting in his lap, Marisa considered the belt for a moment before dropping it to the floor beside the armchair. Her hands found his shoulders, steadying herself as she shifted in his lap, hips grinding down against him; a gasp leaving her as she felt his hardness between her thighs. 

A hand slipped between their bodies, her eyes trained on his, as she unbuttoned his dress pants and slipped her hand inside. A groaned escaped Asriel, hips jerking slightly, as Marisa’s hand wrapped around his length, squeezing teasingly. She stroked him slowly, watching intensely as his eyes fell closed and his head fell back against the armchair; speeding up her strokes for a moment before pulling her hand away completely. 

Marisa laughed as his head snapped up and his eyes opened in alarm. “Marisa,” he growled, mouth twitching in annoyance, his hands gripping the armrests tightly. He wanted to touch her, to yank at her hair, to tease her with his fingers but he held himself back, knowing she was very serious about her threat to leave. At this point all he wanted was for her to sink down onto him and give them both the pleasure they craved. 

But Marisa had other ideas as both her hands came up to cup his cheeks, nails biting into his skin, her mouth finding his in a deep, passionate kiss. She pulled back, biting at his bottom lip, the tangy taste of blood flooding both theirs mouths as she rolled her hips against him, pressing herself close. “You want only me. Don’t you Asriel?” Marisa panted hotly against his lips, eyes opening to gaze at him expectantly. 

“Always you Marisa,” Asriel replied gruffly, his eyes meeting hers and hands itching to touch her. Authority help him, in that moment he wanted to touch her more then he’d wanted anything else in his life. “ _ Only _ you,” he groaned out, hips bucking beneath her, eager to feel her. 

Marisa smiled at the words, eyes alight with passion and fervour, letting a hand slip down from his face and over his body to take him in hand once again. She stroked him a few times before shifting in his lap, her other hand moving down to push her underwear to the side as she slowly but surely sunk down on him. They groaned together and his hands twitched, knuckles white on the now distressed leather. 

A hand clasped at his shoulder tightly as she shifted a little, adjusting to him inside of her. She kissed him again, this time more desperately. She kissed her way along his jaw, teeth nipping at his earlobe once again. 

“ _ Do not let your heart turn to her ways or stray into her paths. Many are the victims she has brought down; her slain are a mighty throng, _ ” Marisa whimpered into his ear, as she slowly started to move her hips, rolling them against him teasingly. 

Asriel growled at her words, leaning forward to nip at her neck and jaw. Tongue laving over the marks, soothing the tender skin, not caring in the slightest how visible they may be. If Marisa could mark him as hers, he would do the same; Edward Coulter be damned. 

Marisa straightened up then, pulling away from his lips as she secured her hands on his shoulders. Her nails dug into his skin as she started to move up and down, her motions slow at first but becoming quicker. She moved with purpose, focusing only on her pleasure, eyes closed tightly before fluttering open and finding Asriel’s closed too. 

She bit her lip, a hand coming up to cup his face, her thumb grazing over his lip and chin. “Look at me,” she breathed lightly, the words barely audible in the near silent room. His eyes remained closed, his body lost in the sensations of her. “Asriel,” she snapped out, stopping her movements with a groan, chest heaving as his eyes finally opened. 

She grinned devilishly, still breathless as their eyes connected. “You,” she rolled her hips, “don’t finish,” she fluttered her inner muscles around him then, “unless I tell you to,” she told him firmly, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. 

Asriel groaned in frustration as he pulled away from the kiss, head rolling back against the armchair, hips bucking up into her sharply. A gasp escaped her and he grinned. Her hand still cupping his cheek, she tilted his head up again, their eyes meeting as she sunk down on him, swivelling her hips as she took him deeper. 

A hand slipped away from his body then, as her breathing picked up, slipping the hand underneath her slip and beneath her underwear, fingers finding her own bundle of nerves with ease. A whimper escapes her as she grinds down on him, her eyes meeting his, grinning widely at the pure lust and want she can see in Asriel’s eyes. The anger that had been burning so brightly earlier had given way to lust, hot and fierce and demanding. 

She slipped her hand out of her underwear, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder once again when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist. She frowned, feeling his hand on her but she was too caught up in her own pleasure to reprimand him for it. Even more, the moment he brings her fingers up to his lips, sucking them into his mouth, Marisa can’t help the wanton moan she lets out. 

“Asriel,  _ oh...oh _ ,” she whimpers out, writhing against him as she rocks her hips harder, clutching at him desperately now. 

She is close, can feel the pleasure building but he’s touching her, when she explicitly told him not to. So she pulls her fingers from his mouth, her hands wrapping around his wrists; one of his hands was clutching at her hip tightly, pulling her down against him. She pried his hands away from her, smacking them back down onto the armrests as he huffs in annoyance, keeping her hands tight over her wrists. 

“I said, no touching,” she mumbled out, brows knitted together as her eyes fell closed. 

“Marisa,” Asriel groaned, arms twitching under her hands. “Don’t be...ridiculous,” he bit out, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he watched her ride him so eagerly. 

He gripped the edges of the armchair tightly, eyes flicking over her body, taking in every ounce of her that he could see. He wanted to touch her so badly, to grip her hips and thrust up into her, to pull her tight and close to his own body and feel her skin against his. But she was taking her own pleasure, working herself over him and Asriel thought he’d never seen anything more desirable. 

Marisa moved over him faster, head dropping back and dark hair spilling over her back and shoulders that Asriel longed to reach out and touch. He watched, breathless as her face contorted with pleasure and her mouth dropped open with a moan. He could tell that she was close, rocking his hips up against hers, wanting nothing more than to see her fall apart. 

Her breath hitched, her hips moving faster and faster, pleasure finally bursting through her body. Asriel’s name tumbled from her lips, body trembling as she leant forward, hands releasing their hold on his wrists and instead cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. His hands moved over her body then, relishing in the free reign he now had as he thrust up against her once again.

It took several moments before Marisa came down, breathing heavily against Asriel’s shoulder. She could feel his hands groping and gripping at her and chuckled against him, biting down against his shoulder as she sat up again. She pushed away from him, grinning widely as she rolled her hips once and then again before pressing her hands against his chest. 

“I told you if you touched, I would  _ leave _ ,” Marisa told him slowly, voice sweet and smooth as honey. 

His hands tightened on her hips then, as his eyes found her. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, even as he felt her moving up and off of him. “Marisa,” he snapped out, sounding desperate in the way only Marisa could make him. 

But Marisa’s hands pulled his from her body, letting out a little sigh as he slipped out of her, shuffling back to stand up. Her hands smoothed over her slip, head tilted as she looked down at him smugly. She took several steps back before Asriel could move, picking up her dress and slipping it on quickly. Behind her, she could hear Stelmaria growling and her Golden Monkey screeching in protest but she ignored them both. 

She headed for the door, turning to smile at him widely as she stopped in the threshold, watching her Golden Monkey clamber down the side table and stalk around her legs for a moment. Her gaze flicked up at Asriel then, delighted by the sight of him; still hard and wanting and with scratches and bite marks littered over his skin, marking him as hers. 

“Goodnight Asriel,” Marisa told him, voice sweet and chipper. She wasn’t even trying to hide how elated she was to be leaving him in the state he was in. 

“You really are a wicked woman,” Asriel snapped out at her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as Stelmaria stalked forward, intent on catching the Golden Monkey to keep Marisa in place. 

But the Golden Monkey was faster, pulling himself up to Marisa’s shoulder and settling there with a frown. Marisa’s eyes turned dark then, meeting his as her smile turned shark-like. “Maybe Annabelle Williams can help you with that,” she drawled darkly, stepping out of the room with a laugh. 

All she heard, as she left was a deep unsatisfied groan coming from both Asriel and Stelmaria. 


End file.
